Van Patrick Martin

February 11, 1958 – October 4, 2025

Van Patrick Martin was working at his mother’s house when he pulled the starter on a leaf blower and broke his collarbone. It seemed like a strange accident. When he went to the emergency room X-rays revealed several serious problems. A few days later, he passed away. Cancer had spread throughout his body.

Van was arguably the cutest little boy of the three brothers. As a three or four year old he tried to kidnap girl students walking home by our house from the Jr. High school across the street and put them in his bedroom closet. It was hilarious and, perhaps, a foretelling of his future behavior.

In high school, Van worked as a dishwasher at the Gateway Restaurant in Three Rivers. He often took his fishing pole and walked along the river from his parents’ house on his way to work. He’d catch a few trout, give them to the chef, and they’d be cooked for him after his shift. He loved telling that story. He also loved Three Rivers—its people, its beauty, and its easy going spirit.

As a teen Van was accidentally shot in his bedroom at Mom and Dad’s house. This was one of the scariest times in his life and for the entire family. He escaped permanent damage but carried shrapnel all his life.

As a young adult, Van worked in construction and developed a remarkable understanding of how things worked and how to put them together. It was a lifelong skill he used often. Those were challenging years—he faced struggles with drugs and found himself living with his brother Bryan and sister-in-law Jennifer for a time. Even then, his humor never left him. Once, while trying to light a cigarette, he struck a match on his jeans zipper, accidentally set himself on fire, and kept right on singing The Doors’ “Light My Fire.” The kids never forgot it.

The turning point in Van’s life came when he met Sharon. She helped him regain his focus, and Van often said she saved his life. They were married at his parents’ home in 1999. Van may have been frugal, but he valued love far more than appearances. Getting married in the driveway beside the garage suited him just fine. He called it the best day of his life.

Van and Sharon built a full and loving life together. They moved to Las Vegas, where Van worked in security for the MGM brand. He was weapons certified and occasionally worked alongside the Las Vegas Police Department. He even became an EMT. He had plenty of stories—about heart attacks on the casino floor, emergencies in hotel rooms, and chasing cheaters through the casino. He loved the excitement of the work but he hated the bureaucracy.

They lived in Searchlight, Nevada, in a comfortable double-wide home. Van had a music room there where he spent hours playing guitar, alone or with friends. Music was a lifelong passion for him.

Eventually, Van and Sharon moved to the Monterey area, where Sharon had roots. Van continued his security work, this time for cannabis dispensaries. As their mother grew older, Van and his brothers brainstormed ways to help her. Van and Sharon bought a charming, recently updated two-bedroom home with a great kitchen in Woodlake, just a few minutes from Mom’s house in Three Rivers. They were always ready to lend a hand. The brothers slept easier knowing Van was nearby.

Though Van never had children of his own, Sharon’s grandchildren called him Grandpa. They remember him playing with them and always being present. His nieces and nephews thought he was the coolest uncle and loved him deeply—and he loved them just as much.

Van also cherished lifelong friendships with Carlton Rigdon, Mike Brinkley, and many others, especially the Mullican family in his hometown of San Luis Obispo. Van had a colorful way of expressing affection. His friends and family knew that when he called you a few choice names, it was really his way of saying he loved you.

He took pride in staying physically fit—an example learned from his mother—through biking and weightlifting. He was meticulous about his home, a reflection of his strong work ethic. He loved his brothers, even during times when they drifted apart, and he cared deeply for his mother, with whom he was spending time when he became ill.

Van Martin was a man of humor, heart, and hard work. He lived honestly, loved deeply, and never stopped being himself.

There are many more stories about Van that deserve to be told. Please share yours on the Stephens and Bean Funeral Home website, where photos and memories are welcome.

A Celebration of Life Potluck will be held at noon on Sunday, November 9, 2025, at the Woodlake Community Center, 145 N. Magnolia, Woodlake, CA 93286. Bring a dish that Van would have loved.